


Love Is Not Like Anything, Especially A Fucking Knife

by Krit



Series: Fuck It, This Is Love [8]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Declarations Of Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s02e20 Beside Still Water, Guilt, Healing, Implied/Referenced Beastiality, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Malachi Is His Own Warning, Post 3a, Self-Sacrifice, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:07:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23233735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krit/pseuds/Krit
Summary: Chapter 1 : Jace barters with the only currency he has to save Clary from Malachi.Chapter 2 : Jace can't understand why Magnus would sacrifice so much for him.(All the abuse, non-con, and such happens in ch 1. You can absolutely skip that and just read ch 2.)
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Jace Wayland, Malachi Dieudonné/Jace Wayland
Series: Fuck It, This Is Love [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1522517
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27
Collections: DL;DR: Shadowhunters Fic





	1. Chapter 1

_Out of his mind away_

_Pushes him whispering_

_Must have been out of his mind_

_Mid-day delusions of pushing this out of his head_

_Maybe out of his mind_

_Out of his mind_

_All alone he turns to stone_

_While holding his breath half to death_

_Terrified of what's inside_

_To save his life_

_He crawls like a worm_

_Crawls like a worm from a bird_

* * *

Jace walked between the two guards on steady feet, his heart pounding. He could fix this. He had to. How had he not realized that Malachi was a Circle member? It never occurred to him. Of course, that could be said if a lot of things. Malachi and Valentine both had always told him that for as smart as he was, he could be so incredibly stupid. Never saw what was in front of his face.

When they stopped in front of Malachi, he wondered how he never guessed... it was so glaringly obvious now. How much the man had reminded him of his father. Of course he would align himself with him. The things he’d always seemed to know about Jace. He must’ve always known. Hodge knew. They’d known everything. Been in on it all from the start. His life laid out. Traded from one master to the next. Leant and borrowed and bartered. But he could barter too. He’d learned long ago that his body was currency. And he could cash in.

“Please, sir.” He begged quietly. “It doesn’t have to be this way. If you let the girl go...” he forced a snide smirk onto his face. “She’s helpless without me. She’s no threat on her own. Just let her go.”

Malachi snorted, crossing his arms. “And why should I do that?”

“Because I’ll stay here with you. You can have me.”

“I’ve already had you.” He drawled, making the surrounding circle members laugh. Jace twisted his face into a coy smile and wide eyes.

“I’ll be good.” He promised, voice sweet and soft. “You know I can be. I won’t argue. I won’t fight. I’ll be whatever you want. Yours.”

Malachi reached out wrapped his hand around Jace’s throat. “Whatever I want, huh?” He asked, pulling Jace closer when he nodded. “You haven’t been that well behaved in a while now. That little ginger bitch showed up, and you forgot your place.”

“I’m sor-“ Jace was cut off as Malachi pulled his hand away to slap him hard across the face, before squeezing his throat again.

“I don’t want your excuses. I want you on your knees.”

Jace dropped down instantly. Malachi grabbed him by the hair and jerked his head back. Jace went pliant, let himself be moved. No resistance. Just stared up at the man towering over him.

“Do you think you have room to bargain? You’re a decent soldier and an easy fuck. Don’t overestimate your value.”

“I know I’m worthless.” Jace breathed, gazing up into his eyes. “But I also know I’m your favorite.”

Malachi chuckled and backhanded him across the other side of his face. “Bratty little bitch.”

“You like me bratty. You like it when I talk back, because then you get to punish me.”

“I don’t need a reason.”

“No you don’t.” Jace took a small breath. “Let her go. And I’m yours. Completely. No Maryse, no Clave, nothing in your way, nothing to worry about. You can do anything to me.”

“You think your father won’t try to stand in my way? Take you back?”

“He’s the one who threw me away. I’m no use to him anymore. And he’ll be more than happy to sell me to you for the price of his daughter’s life.”

He licked his lips and took a few deep breaths as he watched Malachi mull it over, pacing. It was a good deal. They both knew it. Malachi gestured to one of the guards and Jace’s shackles were unlocked.

“Come here.” He commanded, his voice low and dangerous. Jace crawled over to kneel in front of him. “Kiss my feet.” Jace leaned down and pressed his lips to the muddy leather. “Like you mean it, boy. You want this deal, you better live up to your end.”

Jace let his mind close off, felt himself fall into that comfortable fog as he nodded. “Yes, sir.” He pressed a wet kiss to the toe of the boot before dragging his tongue along the inside of it. He knew this. He did this all the time. For his father, Hodge, Malachi......

Maia…

_He spent hours one night, kneeling on her floor, worshiping her favorite knee-high boots while she watched tv. Every so often, she would pet his hair or coo praises and taunts at him._

The boot was pulled away and knocked into the side of his head, shoving him over, pressing down on his cheek, pushing his face into the dirt.

“You remember your place now? You done acting out?”

“Yes sir.”

“What are you?”

“Yours. I’m your property.”

Jace could hear a belt being undone as the boot was removed from his face.

“Up.”

Jace sat back up, rising onto his knees as Malachi grabbed him by the hair and pulled him to his cock.

It was nothing he hadn’t done a million times. Nothing he hadn’t grown up doing. He’d been a skilled professional before he’d even known what it was. He could hear the crowd around them, their words and laughter faded out, not even processing in his mind. Nothing new. Nothing he couldn’t handle. And if this worked... he would have to handle it for some time before he could make his next move.

But it was worth it. A fair trade.

Something clicked into place in his brain. He slipped back into that blank, hollow place in his mind. He wasn’t Jace Herondale, righteous hero, beloved companion. He was Jonathan Wayland, wind up doll, toy soldier. He was no one, and nothing, once again. And he couldn’t help but feel relieved.

He felt himself being lifted to his feet. Bent over a table. It was splintering, and wobbly on the forest floor. He pressed his face to the rough wood, and closed his eyes as his pants were pulled down, his legs kicked open further.

Dry, callused fingers rubbed harshly at his hole. Pushing in, rough and slow, too dry, pinching and pulling. It hurt. No matter how many times he did this, it always hurt worse than anything when it was dry.

A broken shout caught and held in his throat, just a muffled grunt, as Malachi’s spit slick cock, still too dry, tore into him. His fingers curled, nails digging into the table.

He let the pain run through him and let it fade from his mind. Toys didn’t feel pain. He didn’t need it. He let it go.

Someone else fucked him after that. Maybe two more. Jace didn’t really notice anything outside of Malachi’s voice, waiting for his next orders.

He was shoved to his knees again.

There was more pain. Hands, squeezing his throat, slapping his face. Hands squeezing and hitting and pinching. Malachi’s hand around his throat. He leaned into the touch.

He was on the ground again. Face down in the dirt. A heavy boot dug into his spine between his shoulder blades, making it difficult to breathe. Malachi whistled. Jace gave an involuntary flinch at the sound. He knew what it meant. Jace hated Malachi’s dogs. It was one of the only things he fought against. But he’d promised not to fight. He pressed his face into the dirt.

He could do this. He had to do this. It was worth it, wasn’t it? His body, his mind, his humanity... what was it all worth measured against the people he loved? He had no value beyond what he could give of himself. This was what he was made for. It didn’t matter what he felt.

_“How many lives is Clary worth?”_

_“To me? She’s worth everything.”_

He could do this.

Night had fallen by the time Malachi’s thugs pulled him to his feet, and he was allowed to redress. They shackled his hands behind his back again. Malachi stood in front of him and wrapped a hand around his throat, squeezing as he claimed his mouth in a bruising kiss. He sighed wistfully as he pulled away, stroking Jace’s cheek, and combing back his hair.

“You were right about one thing. You really were my favorite.” He stepped back and gestured to the men holding Jace’s arms. “Take him back to the girl. We’ll execute them in ten minutes.”

Jace felt his blood run cold, a deafening static filled his ears. No. No that wasn’t... They had a deal. Malachi wouldn’t just throw him away like this.

“It is a shame. But I just can’t risk keeping you alive.”

They had a deal... Malachi loved him. Jace was his favorite.

Later, when he severed Malachi’s head from his body, all he could feel …was a deep aching grief.

Later still, staring up at the stars, bleeding out next to the lake, he couldn’t bring himself to be angry. Mostly he felt guilty for making Clary sad.

When he learned what she did to get him back, he was so confused. Upset with her. Why would she do that? She could’ve asked for anything. She could get in so much trouble. And for what? For him? He loved her dearly, but she could be so foolish sometimes.

* * *

_If we cut out the bad_

_Well then we’d have nothing left_

_Like I cut up your mouth_

_The night I stuffed it all in_

_And you lied to the Angel_

_Said I stabbed you to death_

_If we go at the same time_

_They'll clean up the mess_

_I lost my head_

_You couldn’t come_

_This lust to my brain almost feels like a gun_


	2. Chapter 2

_Sold my life to bring the rain,_

_maybe to wash me clean._

_Sold my soul to stop the pain,_

_hoping you'd set me free._

_All your fear, all your shame._

_You know that you can lay it all on me._

_That you can lay it all on me._

_I took every chance to lash my tongue._

_You wore the scabs just like an Angel._

_There's something about you._

_Horrible things that I have done._

_Seems this disease is slowly spreading._

_Start running, what would you do?_

* * *

Jace was no stranger to guilt. He knew it well. Was consumed by it more often than not. But this was beyond anything he’d felt before.

There was blood on his hands. And he wasn’t the one who put it there, but that didn’t stop the memories. Throwing Clary off a roof. Stabbing his grandmother.

Alec.

Clary was back, and it eased some of it. Alec had snapped him out of his spiral enough that he had rebalanced to normal. But there was still so much damage done.

He could see the shadows behind Magnus’ smiles. The pain in his eyes when he went to use his magic on instinct, only for it to be gone.

Because of him.

Magnus was suffering because of him.

Jace stood in the doorway of Magnus and Alec’s bedroom and watched him fumble stubbornly with his eyeliner. Acid churned in his gut.

_Your fault. All your fault. To love is to destroy. Alec. Clary. Magnus. All this pain because of you. Worthless. Pathetic. Why did they bother? Should’ve killed you when you told them to. You should’ve died. You should be dead._

Jace shook his head and crossed the room, sitting sideways on the vanity stool next to Magnus.

“Here. Let me.” He held out his hand, not quite looking at Magnus yet. When the eyeliner pencil was placed in his palm, he stopped thing about all the guilt and shame inside his head. He focused on making sure Magnus looked his best. Looked exactly how he wanted to. Exactly how he always did.

They didn’t speak until Jace was finished. Putting the makeup away carefully, he shook his head.

“I don’t understand why you did that.” He whispered forcefully. “I know you don’t want anything to hurt Alec, the angels know I don’t either. But he would’ve recovered. I died before. And he pushed through it. He’s strong.” Jace was staring down at the vanity table when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“I didn’t just do it for him, Jace. I wanted to save you, too.”

“What?” Jace finally looked up at him incredulously. “That’s worse! Why would you do that? I’m not worth losing half of yourself. I’m not worth anything. All of this pain because of me. You all should’ve killed me when you had the chance.”

Before he could continue, Magnus’ hands were holding the sides of his face. “Don’t talk about yourself that way. Don’t think...” He sighed. “I know it’s hard. To see past your own self-loathing. To see yourself for who you really are, not what your asshole father told you that you were.”

“You faced him for me.” Jace whispered. “You sacrificed yourself to him... to help me... _why_?”

“Because I love you, Jace.”

“And it destroyed you.”

“And it was worth it.” Magnus leaned in and kissed Jace softly. “We’ll figure it out.”

“I’ll fix this.”

Magnus chuckled humorlessly. “Together. You’re not alone. We all have each other. And we _all_ take care of each other.”

“I’m not-“ Magnus cut Jace off with another kiss. “You are worth everything. As much as me or Clary, or Izzy.” He grinned. “Even as much as Alec. And he’d be the first person to tell you so. You are loved, Jace. And you deserve love. And that love will never hurt you. It will only protect you.”

* * *

_In your eyes_

_I lost my place_

_Could stay a while_

_And I'm melting_

_In your eyes_

_Like my first time_

_That I caught fire_

_Just stay with me_

_Lay with me_

_You could stay and watch me fall_

_And of course I'll ask for help_

_Just stay with me now_

_Take my hand_

_We could take our heads off_

_stay in bed just make love that's all_

_Just stay with me now_

**Author's Note:**

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